Wierd Things at Hogwarts
by MochaKimono
Summary: The silliest thing I have ever written.
1. Kitter Kickens

Weird Things at Hogwarts

by Joelle D. Haskell

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I won't put disclaimers in this story. Oh, whoops! Fooey. Anyway I don't own anyone or anything except the fanfiction itself, and Rekin.

Chapter 1

Draco slipped like a stealthy, invisible panther from the Hogwarts Castle late at night, although, he'd probably be more like a puma because he's blonde, and Potter would be the panther, having black hair and all. But pumas aren't generally seen as being stealthy, and most people think puma is a silly, unintimidating word, so for now we'll just pretend that Draco is very much like a stealthy, invisible panther. Invisible because he's wearing one of his many invisible cloaks -- not that he needed them, being a master of invisibility potions thanks to Snape's favouritism, but because he simply didn't like other people having them. Ever since that whole embarrassing snowball incident at Hogsmeade, Draco was sourly disposed to the thought of anyone other than himself owning an invisibility cloak. So he had gone to the local muggle mall and cleaned the stores out of them. Strangely enough, muggles had these cloaks in large supply, because not believing in invisibility meant being able to see invisible things. Ironically enough this meant muggles were the only people on the planet able to appreciate the exquisite embroidery that the cloak-weavers put into them, not knowing the magic behind it at all. Draco had been rather silly to watch in the muggle stores garbed in a thick black robe in the middle of summer groping around blindly to fill up two shopping carts with every single cloak in the store. He then evacuated rather quickly because people were starting to threaten calling some sort of services because clearly he was nutters.

Anyway, Draco was slipping around the grounds through the fog, weaving a void through it, making his way towards Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was inside enjoying a burnt biscuit and Fang was sleeping fitfully on the rug. Finally Draco reached the cabin, glanced around twice to make sure no one was watching, then knocked politely. Hagrid wasn't shocked at all and opened the door with an exhasperated look. "H'okay, kiddies, wha' is i' this toime? Oi jes' aboot 'ad enough o' yer shenanigans, sneakin' oot loik thes -- eh?" His beady eyes lit in surprise when the cloak fell and instead of Potter stood a stealthy panther-like Malfoy. "Draco? Wha' you doin' 'ere? Oi though' you 'ated me guts, troin' to get me sacked an' all."

Draco lowered his face to be struck by the hut's firelight in just such a way so his cheeks were shadowed and his gray eyes burned red. He would have been very menacing to Hagrid if Hagrid were not three times his height and five times his girth (although perhaps 0.05 times his brain).

"_I know your secret!"_ Draco said in a dark, sepulchral voice, like the Devil himself were speaking through him.

Hagrid stood dumbfounded and unaffected. "Wha'?"

Draco sighed that annoying little sigh he has that clearly demonstrates how idiotic everyone but him is, and how irritating their idiocy is, and how much he would rather be taking a nice bubble bath than having to deal with irritating idiots. He had taken many years to perfect the technique of summing up such a large amount of subtle emotion into a single exhalation. It was so perfected, it didn't even need an eyeroll anymore. His father would be proud.

"Your secret, Hagrid. I know it. I know why you're always suddenly 'busy' around 4 o'clock, and why you shut the doors and windows, and why you're always very hungry afterwards."

Hagrid looked nervous, eyes darting side to side. "Er, eh, uhm, Oi don' know wha' yer goin' on aboot." He shuffled his feet and shifted his weight, which caused the floorboards to creak painfully.

"You're getting all hopped up on goofballs, professor, I've seen you do it! You're smoking marijuana!"

"Shhh!" Hagrid slapped a hand over Draco's mouth. "Alrigh', foine. But it's no' loike Oi can get a girlfrien', y'know? An' Oi wouldn' dare smoke an actual cigare'e, no' aroond me animals. The nex' bes' way to relax is me wacky tobaccy. Can you blame me?"

"Mmm. Mm mm mmm."

"Oh, sorry." Hagrid pulled the boy into the cabin and uncovered his mouth. "So, wha're you 'ere for? T'scold me?"

"No...to blackmail you!"

"Yer no' very sub'le." Hagrid sat uneasily in a chair, which groaned in agony beneath him. Fang twitched and drooled and rolled over.

"Here's my offer. You let me on some of your stash, or..." He paused for drama, gathering the tension, letting it sit around and stew, getting all thick and extra-tense. "...Or...I'll tell my daddy!"

Hagrid blinked twice and stared, Draco assuming out of shock and fear. Hagrid started to speak, stopped, pursed his lips thoughtfully, scratched his beard, then finally spoke. Draco puffed his chest out, expecting a sorrowful surrender.

"Did you jes' say 'daddy'?"

"What? No, no of course not."

"Yes you did! Oi 'eard you!"

"No you didn't."

"Yes Oi did!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

The argument was interrupted by a sudden snorting and grunting on Fang's behalf, who was going into some sort of seizure in his dream, but in fact he was sobbing in despair. He then proceeded to say, in animal-speak, "I'm sorry Fluffy, but this just isn't working out. I can't do this anymore. It's unfair to all three of your heads to continue with this lie. I'm madly in love with Mrs. Norris!" Of course to the two humans (well, one human and one half-human) it went more like this: "Snnrrt rowf grruam, grrrr -whine-, -whimper snivel-, fsrrff, raawrf, -snort-." But the distraction was enough to stop their bickering for the moment. They afforded themselves a small chuckle and made a few passing jokes that Fang was probably chasing muggle vehicles and burying bones. Finally they returned to the subject at hand.

"Yer daddy's already troid messin' me up once, Malfoy, an' Oi bet 'e won' succeed if 'e trois again. No deal."

"Alright. Then I'll have no choice but to tell a certain headmaster..."

"Dummeldore? Oh, 'e's smokin' it too."

"No! Madame Maxine!"

Hagrid gasped and put a hand over his own mouth this time. "You wouldn'!"

"I would!"

Hagrid settled back and sighed submissively. "Oh, alrigh'. You can 'ave a few joints."

"No, Hagrid...I want the real stuff. I roll my own joints."

"Jeez, you Slytherin's are worse than I though'!"

"That's right. We even have our own Puppy Kicking club. My daddy founded it when he was school-age."

"Did you jes' say da--"

"Just get me the weed!" Draco snarled. Hagrid stood and crossed the room in a single stride, digging around in a vase before producing a small paper bag. He handed it to Draco, who inspected it for genuinity, then rerobed the invisibility cloak and departed into the night, giving Fang a good kick on the way out.

The next day was potions class. The Gryffindors delayed as much as possible in attending, and even some of the Slytherins were less than enthusiastic about going to the dungeons. Only Draco Malfoy arrived earlier than was necessary. He entered the classroom, empty except for Snape, who was catching up on Cosmo back issues and didn't notice the boy's entrance at all. Draco walked up to the desk, waited a moment, then coughed pointedly. Snape threw the magazine into a wall and resumed his general attitude of a cool cat, hands clasped on the desktop, back straight. Once he realized that Draco was only person here at the time, he relaxed again. "You have the goods, Malfoy?"

"All here. The Rolling Club made these all last night."

"I thought the Rolling Club was a bowling team."

"They do that, too." Draco pulled out a bag of joints and laid them out on the table. "Enjoy," he said smugly. "And remember -- if I don't get Outstanding this year, I'm cutting you off."

The two of them smoked merrily. After a forgotten number of nice, long drags, the room was hazy and the two of them were in giggles although they couldn't remember why.

"Oh...my goodness. You are...VERY funny. That...that..." Snape raised a finger, pointing it into Draco's chest with each 'that'. "That...thaaat...'That' is a VERY funny word. THAT."

"It sounds like cat. You know, I should make...a...a...kitten...kicking...club! Yes! And I'll call it...Kitter Kickens!"

Snape chuckled at the name, then went cross-eyed. "I have the largest nose in the WORLD. It's so big I can see it."

"Oh. My. God. I can see it too."

"So can I!"

"So can...can...KITTER KICKENS!" And they giggled for another five minutes and then promptly forgot why again. After another minute there were footsteps approaching from outside.

"Oh no, it's the dehydrated pirates! TO THE BAT-CAVE, ROBIN!" Snape shouted, knocking an ink bottle onto the floor with his spastic hand motions.

Draco interpreted this as 'get in one last drag before taking your seat', so he got in one last drag before taking his seat. The rest of the students filed into the room, the Gryffindors looking glum, the Slytherins looking smug.

Snape leaped from his chair and promptly shoved the remaining joints into a desk drawer. He waved both arms at the classroom. "Hello, my lovelies! I have a humungous schnozz! I can see it! Can you see it?" He attempted to point at his nose and missed. The children all raised eyebrows, except for Draco, who giggled and snorted.

Ron leaned in next to Harry and whispered at him, "I think the two of them have finally lost it."

"You! What did you say!" Snape straighened his back until it bent a little backwards and pointed an accusing couple of fingers in Ron's general direction.

Ron gulped. "I...I didn't say anything, Profe---"

"Are you saying...I'm not...'_digging_' it?" Snape was bringing up some random muggle phrase he'd seemed to have heard in the past once.

"Uhm...no?"

"Well...I am digging...IT..._so much..._that this so-called 'IT'...is -five- -feet- -deep-!" He continued pointing but his finger had strayed towards the floor now.

"Uhhh..." Ron was completely nonplussed. "Yes?"

"That's PROFESSOR Yes to you, Robert!"

"Uh, my name's, uh, Ronald. Sir."

Snape stomped a foot. "Not anymore!" He threw his hands up again. "I've officially declared you the property of Britian and your name is...is...ohmygodmynoseishuge." He then became totally absorbed in his nose. Draco collapsed on the floor, laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face, of course it had nothing to do with anything happening in the room, just something he'd thought of just then. Probably Kitter Kickens again. It -was- pretty funny.

"YOU!" Snape pointed at Draco, who sobered up instantly and stared up from the dungeon floor in horror. "Yes, Schnozzy McNoseter?" he said, and giggled.

"You, are..." Snape paused, thinking, then continued. "You are very mean to people. You're a complete meanie. A big brat. I think you just have those two apes behind you because you're a WIMP!" He looked very proud of this proclamation and gave a satisfied nod to his own genius. The entire classroom gasped.

Harry leaned towards Ron. "You're definitely right. Something's very off here."

"YOU TWO!" Snape pointed at them. "Stop gabbing and go buy me some food! I am incredibly hungry. Now. Go. Before I starve to death, thank-you-very-much." The two boys practically ran from the room, overjoyed at having been excused from potions. They headed in the direction of the kitchens, but were stopped halfway down the dungeon hall by a skulky Argus Filch. Mrs. Norris was curled in his arms, grinning cattily over his sleeve at them.

"Oh, hello, what have we here? Two lollygaggers skipping out of class?" Filch growled, stroking his cat.

"No, sir, we were excused, see, to go get some --" Harry started.

"Hush up! I'll have none of your excuses. Detention for both!" He nuzzled Mrs. Norris. "Who's my little mustache girl? Who's got a furry little mustache? YOU DO! Yes you do! I wub oo my darling kitty-kins! Yes I do!"

"This man is a complete idiot," she said. The two boys goggled.

"What did you say?" Ron gasped.

"I said, 'I wub oo my darli-', I mean, detention! Detention for the both of you!"

"But--"

"No buts! I said detention, and a 20 point deduction for disobeying me!"

"What are you gunna do, make us go to detention?" Harry snapped. "You can't even cast magic!"

"Haha, my owner's a loser," Mrs. Norris chuckled.

"You're a...squib!" Ron gasped.

"That's none of your business! I hate you both!" Filch whined and ran off in tears.

"Hey, I wanted to be the one to let his secret slip!" said Peeves, who had floated over to them during their exchange.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

"Mrs. Norris told Crookshanks who told Pigwidgeon who told Hedwig who told Scabbers who told Voldemort who told me," said the poltergeist. "Oh, shoot! Now I'm not going to be in his special circle anymore." The boys eyed him. "I mean, the Mafia doesn't exist. Bye!" he said and vanished.

"The Mafia? I didn't know Voldemort was Italian," Harry mused.

Just then, Pomfrey rushed past with Professor Snape and Draco tucked under each arm. "Oh dear, oh dear, the professor is sick..." she muttered.

"Wow," Ron said.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"She has really strong arms."


	2. Susan Bones Fanatics Anonymous

Chapter 2

The Slytherins and Gryffindors stood freezing on the damp grass before Hagrid's hut. Since Potions had been cancelled early due to Snape because "possessed by demons" (as some of the students "helpfully" suggested was the case) they had hurried down for Care of Magical Creatures. But Hagrid was not answering. When they peered inside the windows they couldn't see a thing through the thick fog that lay inside. They also couldn't hear anything except contented sighs (from Hagrid) and miserable howls (from Fang).

"What's that racket?" Goyle demanded. He looked around for someone to answer, a bit at a loss since Draco was also "possessed" and in the hospital wing.

"That was amazing," Hermione whispered to Ron and Harry, "He said something almost half-smart!" But when the boys looked at Goyle he was drooling on himself and muttering incoherently, tongue lolling.

"That's it," Hermione said with a huff ten minutes later. "I'm tired of waiting. I'm going to open that door and demand that he teach class!" She grabbed the door and threw it open. A cloud of fog rolled out and hit the children -- literally. With hand-shaped tendrils, it slapped the children, then flew away, snickering mischieviously. The class stared, feeling hurt and indignant and wondering why Hagrid hadn't noticed them yet. Finally he looked around slowly, spotted them, took a moment to realize what he had spotted and that he should react somehow to it, stood, tottered, shouted something, tottered some more, then shuffled to the door and fell on top of Neville. The class cringed at the sound of the boy's crunched bones.

"Whoops, sorry Neville," Hagrid mumbled and stood, brushing off his mole-fur jacket. Neville lay in a pathetic lump on the grass, whimpering softly. Hagrid whistled an off-tune and looked around, rocking on the balls of his feet, then remembered why he had come outside when he re-spotted the children. "Oi, wha' do you wan'?"

But before anyone could respond, they heard a loud slap from inside and Mrs. Norris came storming out of the hut, followed by Fang. The slobbering dog fell to his knees in a begging position and tearfully shouted at Norris' back. "No! Don't leave me, please!"

She turned and glared sharply. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in an inter-species relationship!" She put a paw across her forehead. "I love...Crookshanks!" And a jarring chord played in the background. The children looked around in confusion and spotted Colin Creevey on an organ. "Er...sorry," he said, and scuttled off, organ and all. Shrugging, they returned their attention the scene folding out between the two animals. Mrs. Norris bounded up the lawn towards the castle, and Fang fell to the ground, shrieking and sobbing. The hound peeled himself off the grass after a good few minutes of throwing a fit and ran inside, throwing himself onto a butcher knife, which was for some reason lying at the perfect angle for a dog to throw itself onto and die. In his last moments he attempted to write a suicide note, although he probably should have tried doing that before committing suicide, because in the few seconds trying to find a paper and pen he kicked the bucket. After kicking said bucket, the dog actually died.

Hagrid didn't notice the bucket, or the dog, or really anything at all. "Hm-hm...Wha'? Oh, roight, class. Well, let's take a walk in th'woods, shall we?"

"What!" Harry shrieked. He was severely opposed to the idea after the other trips in the Forbidden Forest, one time where Voldemort tried to kill him, then a swarm of giant spiders, then a werewolf, then a pack of Dementors. But Hagrid and the rest of the class had already set off and were breeching the forest border. By the time Harry caught up to them, the great half-giant was swatting at trees as if they were spooks and shouting about how they were watching him.

"Now, childrin, you mus' unnerstan', tha', the thing aboot, wha' Oi mean ter say is..." Hagrid had veered away from the path, which had been patchy at best, and was now crashing knee-deep through underbrush (chest-deep for the kids). "Now Oi berleev tha' Oi'm gurtly tall an' all tha', but, Oi gots feelins too, an', you all are no', well, you keep, bein' all, 'Woooo!' an' Oi jes' go, 'Oooow' which is 'Woooo!' bu' th'other way aroond..."

"What is he going on about?" Ron said to Harry.

"I don't know," Harry said with a helpless shrug. They swatted branches and grass out of the way as they tromped, and more than once they nearly stepped on a snake or worse.

"I think he's possessed by demons, like Professor Snape and Malfoy," said Susan Bones. And there was quite a bit of rejoicing from the small and obscure Susan Bones Fanatics Anonymous, because up 'til now the poor girl hadn't gotten any lines or recognition for her contributions to the school.

"That's utterly ridiculous!" Hermione said. "Demons cannot possess people like many people would like to believe. I know it as a fact because I read it in a book, and books are always right! Also, it's not, 'Professor Snape and Malfoy', because that could imply that both Snape and Malfoy are professors. Rather, it should be, 'Malfoy and Professor Snape', or, 'Professor Snape, and Malfoy' with a comma to show that they're--"

"Lookie 'ere!" Hagrid cried suddenly, stopping. The students bumped into him, and the students behind them bumped into the students who had bumped into him, so on and so on down the procession until everyone had bumped into at least one other person. Except Lavender Brown, who had leapt heroically aside to dodge it all and ended up in a tarpit on accident.

"What is it, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Oi don' know!" The professor spun around, his coat throwing a few more students into the tarpit as he moved. In his hand he held a curious sort of squirrel, complete with vicious fangs and bat wings. It chittered angrily and tried to bite Hagrid but couldn't pierce the calloused skin of his hand. (Take that as you will...)

Anyway, Hagrid eyeballed the creature, and all the students stood on tip-toe to eyeball it also and looked at him for guidance. "Wha'! Oi SEZ Oi donno! Tha's yer assoinmen', kiddies! Ter foind oot wha' this li'l beastie be!" He waved it around emphatically, accidentily tossing the poor thing straight into the tarpit as will, where it drowned tragedically with the other students. "Oh, erm...Class dismissed!" And with that, he went whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as he went.

"The demons are getting to everyone!" Ron cried.

Pomfrey appeared from yonder Hagrid vanished. "It's not demons!" she reprimanded. "They're..._high!_" Everyone gasped loudly, then silence settled, and crickets chirped.

"What's that mean?" Neville asked.

"Isn't your back supposed to be broken?" Harry said.

"Oh, right..." Neville then fell over and whimpered again. Pomfrey rolled her eyes and started to drag him away by his feet.

"Wait!" Harry shouted.

"Yes?" Pomfrey said with a trace of an irritated sigh and a sharpness to her eyes that made Harry pause before saying, "What are you doing out here in the first place? Shouldn't you be tending to patients?"

"Minerva turned the both of them into turtles to keep them from wreaking havoc. Of course, then they ate my ferns..." she said sadly, and left.

"Well, we've got half an hour to kill before the next class," Harry said, sitting down heavily. But the grass was wet, and his butt got wet.

"Well, there's always that strange powder..." Ron suggested.

Half an hour later the fifth year students stumbled into Divinations, following by a thick fog that nobody noticed since Trelawney's classroom was hazy in the first place. The bespectacled woman glided and flitted through the room, rambling on in her dreary voice about insight and foresight and highsight ("Which," she said, "Is not always 20/20, but more like 40/20, even 80/20 if you're really good"). She then noticed that the students were paying less attention than usual, most of them watching her only out of fascination of her sparkly dress, others muttering and giggling to themselves, some contemplating the awesomeness of their own hands. She huffed, clasped her hands behind her back, and went into pacing.

"Now, children," she said, "Who here can tell me the future?" They probably would have been able to give her astoundingly accurate guesses under the influence as they were, but none got the chance, for Justin decided at that moment to speak what no one was thinking.

"You're hot," he said, eyeballing her, or at least trying to before getting distracted by a speck of dust he thought was flipping him off.

Her stare was stone. "Um, no. Ten points from...what house are you in again?"

"I know!" Harry shouted, waving both hands. Parvati Patil was amazed by the motions.

"You know what house he's in?" Sybil asked.

"No, the future!" Harry said. Lavender Brown giggled at the word. Fyoo-chur. Hee hee. (For those observant, nit-picky folk reading this, yes, she managed to survive the tarpit incident in time to get to class half an hour later.)

Angelina Johnson, who really couldn't hold her drugs, suddenly jumped up, shrieking about how -they- were watching her, stumbled over next to the teacup shelves, and vomited.

"Oh dear," Trelawney muttered, going to clean it up. "You were saying, Potter?"

He hiccuped. "About what?"

"Your future."

"What about my future?"

"You said you knew what it was!"

"Oh yeah. According to you, I die painfully," he replied with a shrug. "I am SO hungry."

"How can you be hungry!" she demanded. "You've eaten twice today already!" She looked around at the other children, noticing many of them were looking rather hungry. "Oh no...you all have it now, too. You're all possessed by the drug demons!"

The now very angry teacher ushered and herded the students into the hospital wing, where they tormented the two turtles already in there, having completely forgotten that the turtles were in fact Snape and Malfoy. Hermione picked one of the turtles up and cooed, "Aww, it's SHOOO adorable!" and gave it a sloppy kiss on the mouth.

Once everyone had sobered up, McGonagall came into the hospital wing in-between teaching classes, and un-transfigured the two turtles into their human forms, then swept away again. Draco immediately darted to Hermione and gave her a passionate smooch on the lips. She stared in shock. "What was that for?" she said in an aghast breath.

He became uncharacteristally flustered. "Well, you...you kissed me! And...I just thought..." He buried his face in his hands. "I shouldn't have done that!"

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, I like you too."

Draco looked at her with eyes like a puppy who's just been handed a bag of Beggin' Strips. Harry jumped up from his seat and stomped over in anger. "What! But I thought you liked me, Hermione!"

"But you like Cho Chang!" Ron said. "Why should you care?"

"Well, I...I just wanted a back-up, in case I lost one of them."

"Chang's your back-up now," Hermione said. Harry looked perplexed, since that comment really made no sense at all, but the author had kept it in the second draft anyway because she didn't want to think of another one instead. By the time Harry came out of reveling, Hermione and Draco were sucking face.

"Ugh, get a room!" Ron snorted.

"Alright," Hermione said with a sly wink, and the gruesome twosome slunk off together to somewhere private. The rest of the students filed out of the wing and went to Transfigurations.

Harry did nothing through class but pout, sigh, and moan. "I can't believe it...my rival...and my second-best friend..." he said. It really was horrible, although he was probably making way too much of it. Just because a couple of people are having sex doesn't mean they're going to stay a couple right? Draco and Hermione couldn't possibly stay together! Well, that's how Harry tried to reason it, at least. It was the only thing keeping him clinging to sanity today.

Ron was no happier, maybe even a little less happy, but had gotten really annoyed by Harry's moans and sighs, so shushed him. "Be quiet. You know she was too smart for you anyway."

Harry frowned and sank back into desponency and distraction. Suddenly he snapped alert to McGonagall's irritated screams.

"Harry? HARRY!"

"Uh, five!" he blurted out.

She smiled. "Good job, Potter. Ten points for Gryffindor."

"What?"

Her smile vanished, replaced by the steely gaze of a woman scorned. "The square root of 25! Weren't you even listening!"

"No. I mean, yes, of course!"

Minerva glared, raised her wand, and zapped him, and he felt himself transforming...


	3. Bikini Babes

Chapter 3

Zap!

Harry felt himself shrinking. And not in that way, you gutter-minded folks. His entire self from head-to-toe was becoming rapidly tinier and tinier. "Help me! Heeelp meee!" he tried to shout, but his voice became squeaky and then incomprehensable. He looked around at the room full of giants staring down at him.

"Harry...you're...you're a...a mouse!" Ron gasped. He plucked up Harry by the tail and stared at him curiously. "This is the second rodent I've known who was actually a person."

Professor McGonagall thundered over, or it sounded like thunder from Harry's point-of-view, at least. "That's what you get!" she shouted.

"What got YOU in a snit?" sneered Marcus Flint. Her eyes glowered, and he cowered. "I mean, you're looking awfully lovely today!"

"Oh, no, I'm not," she said, sinking into Harry's now empty seat with a heavy sigh. "This dress and hat so totally clash."

"You're hot," Justin Finch-Fletchley said.

"Why are you obsessed with the women professors today?" asked Seamus Finnigan.

Justin's eyes glazed over as he stared pointedly at McGonagall's bosom. "Because they have nice, big--"

"Nevermind!" Seamus threw his hands up.

Minerva looked shocked and crossed her arms over her indicated chest. "Please leave. And twenty points from Hufflepuff!"

So that's what house he's in, Harry thought to himself.

Once class had been dismissed and all the students had scrambled out, Minerva stood and went over to the mirror resting in the corner. "Hmm," she hmmed. "Hmmmm," she hmmmmed. "Hmmmmmm," she...you get the idea. She went on hmming and such for a while, studying the shape of her liver-spotted legs, the curve of her bat-winged arms, and the slender crevasse between the sides of her protruding chicken's neck. She admired how well-shaped her breasts were once the excess skin was yanked up and duct-taped to a bra, and how lovely her fingers were if held above her head so the blue veins deflated. She had to admit: she was an exquisitely buxom lady.

"He was right. I AM hot," she remarked. "I should send a resume to that Bikini Babes calender!"

Everyone was resting in their dormitories, Harry lying across Ron's chest (remember, he's a mouse, so it's not strange and disgusting for him to sit on people).

"Where've Hermione and Draco gotten off to?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Send Harry to spy on them," Lee Jordan suggested.

Good idea, thought Harry, and sprinted away. We'll just skip the whole description of him travelling around looking for the Slytherin's part of the castle and just go straight to where he finds their entrance, a portrait of the Gray Lady. An exceptionally convenient mouse-sized hole was in the wall next to it, and Harry ran for it, when a fuzzy paw suddenly slapped down on his tail. Before he knew it, he had caught by Mrs. Norris. She dangled him in front of her fuzzy face while she licked her fuzzy lips.

"Yum yum, I caught myself a tasty little mousey!" she said...uh...fuzzily.

"No! Don't eat me! It's me, Harry Potter!" he cried.

"Whoop-dee-freakin'-doo," she said, and opened her mouth wide.

"I saved you, remember?" he begged. "I found you petrified in my second year! If it wasn't for me, you might have been eaten by the Basilisk!"

"Oh, well in that case...nope, still don't care." She started to lower him towards her slavering jowls.

"I...I'll tell Fluffy that you made Fang kill himself!" he bluffed. He only hoped that Mrs. Norris knew how much Fluffy had adored Fang.

She considered this, and finally dropped him back on the floor, head-first. "Okay, fine," she said. "But Crookshanks is even crankier than me, and has nothing to do with either of those dogs. If you run into him, you'll be sorry!" And she padded off to find some brats to get into trouble.

"Phew," Harry sighed, and crawled through the hole into the Slytherin common room. It was exactly like Snape: Old, greasy, dark, with an abnormally large nose. Harry was perplexed about the huge set of nostrils lying in the corner, inhaling hapless dust bunnies and disturbing a Black Widow wedding.

"I promise to love and cherish you until the end of my days, or until I devour you and our children," the bride was vowing.

"Um. I think I need some space. Let's just be friends," the groom said nervously. "It's not you, it's me. I'm just not ready for this kind of commitment."

"Bastard!" she screamed and bit off his head.

"I now pronounce you," droned the minister, "bride and delicacy."

Harry shook his own head at the sight, and continued on up into the fifth-year boys' dormitory. All of the beds were empty with the curtains pulled back except for one. He scampered over and crawled up onto the foot of the bed, where he saw the most grotesque, terrifying, hideous thing ever: naked Draco. Not just Draco, either, but also naked Hermione, and they were lying next to each other, staring lovingly into each others' eyes with nauseating amouration.

"What shall we name the baby, my schnookie-wookums?" she said.

Harry gave a shrieking little squeak of pure horror and fell off the bed, hitting his head on the floor again and making for the exit with godspeed. He then collapsed in the hall outside the common room, panting, still haunted by the sight of Draco's anatomy, caricaturely huge-seeming since Harry had been so tiny. It would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life. You just can't recover from something like that.

He made it back to his own dorm, where Minerva was waiting. As soon as she spotted him, she zapped him back to human form. He may or may not have been naked.

"I apologize for turning you into a mouse," she said, "But next time, pay attention!" A plot hole suddenly opened up and she fell into it and vanished from the scene because it's very important that she not hear what Harry was about to say next.

"You won't believe what I just saw!" he shouted. "Draco and Hermione...they...they...they -got in awn-!"

"Wow. You mean..." Ron said. "...that she was in the Slytherin dorms?"

"I thought that was obvious," Harry said.

"Well you didn't say it."

"But it was implied."

"No it wasn't."

"Shut up, both of you!" Dean Thomas shouted.

Roughly nine months later...

Hermione slunk through the halls suspiciously, with a suspicious bundle in her suspicious arms. It was...suspicious. Peeves noticed her suspiciousness and floated over upside-down.

"Oooh, what is an ickle little firsty doing wandering the halls like this?" he said.

"One, I'm NOT a first-year, I'm a fifth. Two, none of your business. Three, why do you have to talk like a retarded four-year-old?" she snapped, all irritated from her hormones. Peeves was so taken aback he flipped right-side-up.

"You're no fun!" he sneered in an oily voice. "THERE'S A KID WANDERING HE HALLS, SHE LOOKS VERY SUSPICIOUS!" McGonagall came running out of her office. Both poltergeist and school-girl gasped at the sight of Minerva.

She was wearing a bright yellow bikini!

"What are you doing!" Hermione and McGonagall asked each other at the same time.

"I...need some help," Hermione answered first. "What are -you- doing?"

"Oh, taking some photos to send in to the Bikini Babes calender," the professor said. Justin Finch-Fletchey (what a weird name) turned the corner suddenly, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Oh...my...goodness. You are SO hot!" he breathed.

"Which one?" Minerva said.

"You."

"Oh man," Peeves said, snapping his fingers, "I was hoping it would be me." They gave him weird looks, and he floated away in a hurry.

"Justin, go back to wherever to need to be!" Minerva screamed.

"I don't need to go anywhere," he said, and sidled up next to her.

"Then just go away! Ten points from Hufflepuff you dirty little brat! Get out of my sight before I hit you!"

"Hit me...or hit ON me?" he said, waggling his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes, and dragged Hermione into her office before the weird boy could make a pass at either of them anymore.

"Now, what is it you need, Granger?"

"Well..." Hermione unrolled the bundle, showing off a blue baby. "Oops, must have wrapped the blanket too tightly."

"Oh my goodness!" Minerva said, jumping up. "When did you start kidnapping!"

"I didn't! It's mine!"

"What!" This shocked the teacher even moreso. "Who's the father? Let me guess, Weasley?"

"No. It's--"

"I know. Harry, right?"

"No! It's...Draco Malfoy."

McGonagall looked faint. "When...how...but...well, I'm...I'm going to write letters to each of your two's parents!"

"NO!" Hermione screamed, dropping the baby with a thunk. "If Lucius finds out--"

"Find out what?" Lucius had appeared. Somehow. We'll never know how. He probably leaped out of a passing plot hole just then. Or perhaps he had been travelling to and through the school this entire time and arrived in the room at precisely the wrong moment. Either way, there he was. Woo, mysterious.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, not finding it strange in the least that he had appeared from nowhere for no reason at all. Likewise he didn't find it odd that she was in a bikini.

"Hello, Mrs. McGonagall," he said curtly.

"You're a grandfather."

His face went white in shock, then melted into a frown as he sank into a chair. He seemed extremely depressed instead of angry. "I was just going through my mid-life crisis..." he whined. "Now I feel so OLD! Oh well...who's the father?"

"Er...your son," she said.

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course, there's no reason for it to be anyone else, nope. Who's the mother, then? Not a mudblood, I should hope."

The two females exchanged nervous glances. It took a moment for Lucius to understand, and he jumped to his feet and started strangling Hermione, shouting and cursing like a madman, veins bulging in his forehead, hair fraying at the edges, steam whistling out of his ears. The infant started crying from the floor, and the readers sighed in relief to find out the author hadn't really killed an infant.

Minerva drew her wand and shouted a word, and the desk transformed into a Devil's snare and took hold of everyone except herself. "Now, I'm sure we can all just stay civil and settle this like adults," she said. "Nine months ago, the fifth-year students were all attacked by the evil 'pot'. To keep your son from getting into trouble, I transformed him into a turtle, when Hermione kissed him. Then it just got out of hand, I guess."

"You little mudblood," Lucius snarled, "When I see you next, I'll pop your head off like a bottlecap!"

McGonagall was about to scold him, when a fear-filled chorus of screams echoed up from the Main Hall.


	4. Quattlebaum

Chapter 4

"I'll deal with you..." Minerva McGonagall counted on her fingers. "I'll deal with you two later."

When she arrived in the Great Hall she saw nothing but unbridled chaos. Winged squirrels dived kamikaze-style into students' heads, and students dived coward-style under the tables. Chittering and screaming filled the hall, reverberating off the cloudy ceiling. Dumbledore arrived behind the stricken McGonagall. "It seems Hagrid had angered these creatures about nine months ago," he said.

"I'll take care of this. Zygoscatio!" she incantated, waving her wand at the squirrels. The creatures chirruped in agony as they transformed into piles of moldy poop and splatted onto the floor. Shouts of "eek!" quickly changed to "eew!" all around. The surviving squirrels bravely turned and fled. Once the noise had settled down, everyone turned to stare at the sound of obscenities coming from under the teachers' table. Snape crawled out from under it with a bleeding bite wound on his forearm, and he swearing loudly about it, and about how much he really hated squirrels and would kill them all if he could.

Pomfrey dashed over to him and endearingly held his arm. "Here, dearest, let me have a look at this." She took a long look and nodded solemnly.

"Well? What's the news?" he said grimly.

"It seems...you have been bitten," she said just as grimly.

"Severus, go with her to the hospital wing for a better look," Albus said.

"But--" Snape started to complain.

"If you don't go right this instant you can forget about teaching DADA ever again," Dumbledore said firmly. Severus bolted for the hospital wing.

McGonagall leaned on Albus and hugged him. "You handled that perfectly, bunny-huggims."

"I know, mookie-pumpkin. Now, why don't you go check on the ol' greasy git." She nodded and ran off to follow Snape and Pomfrey.

In the hospital wing, Severus lay on a hospital bed while Pomfrey inspected him under a microscope that was larger than herself. "Hmm," she said. "Yep, you've definitely been bitten."

"I know that!" he snapped. "But what bit me?"

"A were-squirrel. Every full moon you'll turn into one of them. And it's starting to get to be that time of month, so..."

"Heh-heh, Snape's got a 'that time of month'," snickered a broken-legged Alicia Spinnet from an adjacent bed.

"...SO...I'll have to give you a vaccination so you can teach your class this month," Pomfrey said and pulled out a gargantuan needle.

"Um, no, that's fine. I'm okay with turning into a squirrel each month. Really!" he said, starting to sit up.

"Nonsense! It's my duty as the nurse to treat each and every one of my patients." She jumped on him, wrestling and working up a sweat as she tried to restrain him. Evidently he didn't like needles much. She finally managed to pin his hands down with her knees, straddling his chest and using the needle propped in the crack between her boobies to vaccinate him. Just then Madam Sprout was delivering a box of medicinal herbs and walked in to find the scene. She dropped the box on the floor and stared with wide eyes. "What are you two -doing-! Ugh! Get a room!"

"It's not what it looks like!" Pomfrey protested.

"Sure, you're just saying that!" Snape said. "But from down here, it's pretty sexy!" He sounded very angry about it. Or he tried to, anyway. Pomfrey smacked him.

"Dirty old man! You need a spanking!"

Sprout stared in disbelief. Justin Finch-Fletchley burst into the room suddenly. "Did I hear someone say 'sexy'? Wow, you're hot!" He pointed at the three females at the same time.

"Fifty points from Hufflepuff you little pervert!" Snape shouted.

"Hey!" Sprout said.

"Ch'yah, HE'S the pervert..." Alicia said with a typical teenager eye-roll.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, too!" he barked at the girl.

"Hey!" Pomfrey said.

"What, is that your house?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged. "Rowling never mentioned it."

"Well...detention for both of you kids!" he said. Alicia moaned, and Justin trudged away.

McGonagall had remembered halfway going to the hospital wing that she still had the Malfoy-Granger issue to deal with and she took a detour through some closets and lavatories and finally got to her office, where the Devil's snare kept a firm hold on Hermione, Lucius, and the infant, which wasn't blue anymore but a healthy beige. Minerva stepped up and looked at them. Hermione stared helplessly. Lucius glared helplessly. The baby pooped and spit up.

"If you two promise not to fight, I'll let you go," the professor said.

"I promise," Hermione said.

Lucius rolled his eyes much like Alicia had done not long ago. "Keh."

"Lucius Quattlebaum Malfoy, you promise you won't kill those children right this instant!" Minerva said in a deadly tone. Not that Quattlebaum was his middle name or anything, but she didn't know what it was and just used the first name that came to mind.

"Fiiine...I promise..." he said with a sigh and another eye-roll.

"Say it like you mean it."

He gritted his teeth. "I promise," he said, eyes fixed firmly in place.

"What do you promise?"

"I promise not to kill the mudblood and her stupid baby."

"Alright then." Minerva nodded, and untransfigured the desk. The three now-unentangled ones fell to the floor. "Shake on it," McGonaggal said, and Lucius reluctantly shook Hermione's hand, then cleaned his hands with a damp cloth and sprayed some disinfectant on it.

"Muggle items don't work in Hogwarts!" Hermione shrieked, trying to defend what the books had taught her if it would be the last thing she did.

"Oh," he said, and the canister exploded, taking off his hand. Sigh. "Can I just go see my son now?"

"He's in his dorm right now...I suppose you can, since you're both Slytherin," McGonaggal said. "But no going into the girls' dormitory!"

"Jeez, can't you just drop that already!" he exclaimed.

"It's still the record simultaneous loss of points from a single house to date, Mr. Malfoy," she said frankly.

"It was just a -joke-!"

"No one found it very funny, Mr. Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, what-EV-er. Can I just, like, go see my son now?" She nodded. He left. Those were boring sentences, I know.

When he arrived in the Slytherin common room, he was amazed by the overwhelming nostalgia, and by the strange whooshing sound coming from the nose in the corner, and by the fact that him having gotten into the room meant that the password had not changed in the past few decades since he had been a schoolboy. He would have to find the person in charge of passwords and beat them with a stick for stupidity. Later, not now. For now he had to beat Draco with a stick for stupidity instead. Maybe he'd get lucky and Draco would be the one in charge of passwords and Lucius would beat two birds with one...stick.

"Hm..." He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then he snuck quietly into the girls' dorm. "Heh heh heh." Milicent Bulstrode stood there in a sheer nightgown, combing cat hair out of her own hair. This meant either her cat shed projectilely or she liked to wear her feline as a hat.

Lucius crouched in the doorway and gave a long, low, lewd whistle, regretting it as soon as he had done it. Milicent jumped and turned to spot him there, shrieked at the strange man, and dove into a chest which she locked herself inside of. Lucius quickly stood and walked away, trying to look innocent as he crossed into the boys' dormitory.

Draco was stretched belly-down on the bed, writing in his Lisa Frank brand diary, the one with the purple and pink kittens on the cover. "Dear Diary," he was reading aloud as he wrote, "Today I made a pass at Katie Bell, but she punched me in the face and told me to suck scum. That really hurts my feelings. I like her alot. It makes me sad. I know that I really love Hermione and all that, but Katie's so cute and dreamy..." Siiigh. "...Anyway, Terence Higgs called me fat and made me cry for an hour. I ate a Chocolate Orgasm and felt better. I wrote a poem about how much that hurts me. The insult, I mean, not the chocolate. Deep down inside, in the depths of my black soul, My black void, my black heart, my black rose..."

"That is the most horrendous poetry I have ever heard," Lucius said. Draco squeaked, throwing the diary across the room where it hit Adrian Pucey in the face.

"I can SO write better poetry than that," Lucius went on. "O thou chrysanthemum likyth an oceane of bloode, only thy ravyn undyrstanth mine owne painst, O calleth of sweete dreame, O hollowe, mine ownst..."

"What are you doing here?" Draco interrupted.

"Hm? Oh, right." The elder Malfoy plopped on the bed, slung Draco over his knees, and started spanking his viciously. "You stupid little brat! How dare you deflower yourself with that filthy mudblood! How dare you dishonour the Malfoy name by spilling your seed with muggle-born swine! How dare you do this sort of thing at FIFTEEN, no less! Your mother and I always told you, 'Wait until you're sixteen!', but nooo, you just couldn't keep it in your pants for one whole year, could you!"

"Um, sir, I don't know who you are, but what are you doing in our dorm and why are you spanking Draco?" Adrian said.

"Just having a little father-son chat."

"Oh, alright then, bye." Adrian meandered off to the girls' dorm to see if Milicent was available for a booty call.

The hoarse call of a man whose body was being rent by an evil curse came suddenly from the common room. The two Malfoys ran to see what was happening. There was Snape, shaking all over, bent over double, coughing and cringing.

"S...save yourself!" he said through gritted teeth. "I'm...I'm a lycan...FLY, YOU FOOLS!"

But Pomfrey's medicine kicked in at that moment and Snape fell face-first onto the floor-rug with a huge fluffy tail sticking out of his posterior and a pair of miniscule dragon wings from his shoulder blades. He stood up, brushed himself off, trying to keep cool and composed. Draco barely surpressed a snigger.

"Do NOT laugh," Snape said in a voice of steel, and stalked out of the room.


	5. BAD KIDS

Chapter 5

After everything that had happened in previous months, everyone pretty much assumed that it was going to be a relatively normal day at Hogwarts. Except that the Quidditch game had been cancelled on account of renegade packs of squirrels. And that Hermione was now toting an infant everywhere (gender as yet undetermined). And that a new DADA teacher had come in to replace the despicable Dolores. And that Professor Sprout had lost an arm to a venus flytrap. And that everyone had actually assumed it was going to be a normal day at Hogwarts, the most abnormal school in the country.

"Herms, are you ever going to name that baby?" Harry asked that day at breakfast.

"I want to choose a name together with my lovely Draco," she said, hearts in her eyes.

Harry made a face. "Could you please not refer to him as 'lovely'? I might lose my lunch."

"You haven't even had lunch yet," Ron remarked. "Hermione, I don't think you've even had breakfast!"

"I have to feed my baby first," she said, and proceeded to do so. Neville fainted at the sight. Fred and George hooted and cat-called. Justin Finch-Fletchley bored holes through her with his gaze from the Hufflepuff's table.

"Hermione Granger, stop doing that right now!" McGonagall said, standing.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor!" Snape snarled.

"Oh no! Gryffindor's lost 170 points already!" Harry cried and collapsed from his chair in depression.

"I think he's become traumatized," Madam Hooch commented.

Justin sent a grotesquely flirtatious gaze at the Quidditch professor. "Hey baby, you're hot. Wanna come to the Hufflepuff common room and see -my- broomstick?" he purred.

"Fifty points from Hufflepuff and expulsion for sexual harrassment!" Dumbledore bellowed angrily.

Justin sauntered over to Hermione on his way out. "You know, if that Malfoy kid dumps you, I'll always be available if you need any...'comforting'," he said with a wink, and left. She ignored him as she continued to feed the infant.

"Miss Granger, either start bottle-feeding, or take your baby and do that in private!" Professor Flitwick said.

"It's my baby too, you know!" Draco said defensively. The Slytherins sent scathing glares at him from all around the table.

"You really let yourself go," Blaise Zabini said coldly, "Sleeping with people like her."

"Hah!" Ron laughed. "It's good to see even his own house hates that pasty little pansy."

"How dare you!" Hermione bawled. "He's my lover! He's perfect!" She broke down into maniacal sobbing. Before Ron could respond, she stopped and smiled. "Sorry. Overreacted a bit."

"You and your mood swings..." he muttered.

"WHAT!" she shrieked, bloodshot eyes bulging. The infant began to cry, and she settled down immediately to sing it a lullaby. "You are my darkness...my only darkness...you make me de-pressed, when skies are fine...You don't know, brat, how much I hate you...so please leave, and don't come back anytime..."

"Isn't it supposed to go, 'you are my sunshine, my only sunshine...'?" Harry said. Before she could start screaming at him, the headmaster announced it was time for class with Snape.

When the students arrived in the dungeons, they found the classroom door was locked. Argus shuffled over to them, cradling Mrs. Norris as usual. "You dumb kids," he growled, "It's time for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Why do you hang out in the dungeons so much? I bet you're down here having a love affair with your mangy cat, you pathetic squib!" Harry said. "Sorry. Someone put a 'say what you're thinking but not what is polite' hex on me. Ron, you're not very smart."

"I think you're right, Harry!" Luna Lovegood said. "He probably IS having an affair with his cat!"

"What? That's nonsense!" Argus said. "What would make you think a silly thing like that?"

"The fact I caught you making out with her down here last night," put in Hannah Abbott.

"That, er, wasn't her."

"Ew, was it...Crookshanks?" said Pansy Parkinson. Everyone shuddered at the mental picture of the smoosh-faced hairball...and Crookshanks was pretty ugly, too.

"No, it wasn't Crookshanks!" Argus said.

"Was it Milicent's cat?" said Sally-Anne Perks.

"My cat would never make out with that chumface!" Milicent said.

"It wasn't any of your stupid cats!" Filch barked.

"But I saw it with my own eyes! It was a cat!" Hannah said.

"Or...someone in cat form..."

"Ew, Professor McGonagall?"

"Um. Yes. I have to go." With that, Argus scuttled off.

"But I saw Minerva being all cuddly with Dumbledore!" Harry said.

"Well, I saw her with Snape," Ron said. The children all felt shocked and disgusted with the author for making Minerva such a ho. Suddenly, Harry reached up, took firm hold of the Fourth Wall, and tore it down to stare up at me as I typed.

"Hey! Could you please stop making these weird pairs of people? I'm getting scared I'll end up with someone horrible!" he shouted up at me.

"Like Professor Trelawney?" I said.

"Ugh, yes. She'd be an awful date, always telling me I was going to die..."

"Good..." I said, and put the Fourth Wall back up in its proper place. Sybil Trelawney appeared in the halls and strutted up behind Harry, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Hello, loofy-puggins."

Fear seized his heart and wracked his brain. His blood ran cold. Sweat formed on his brow. He began to shake and seemed to have become catatonic and apopleptic from the mere thought of dating or mating with Sybil.

"Hurry!" Ron shouted in a panic. "We have to get him to higher ground before he goes into shock!" The students snatched Harry from Trelawney's grip and made a mad dash up the staircase, fleeing towards DADA class, where Snape was waiting less than patiently and removed fifty points from each house for tardiness. This only made to further traumatize poor Harry, since his house's stature was incredibly important. He had a short seizure and mini-stroke before managing to get into his seat.

Snape stood and unrolled a diagram on the wall and opened his mouth to teach and stopped when he heard the incorrigable Lisa Turpin of Ravenclaw sniggering. He sighed through his nostrils and turned to glare.

"And what, young lady, is so funny?" he said thickly.

"Your tail!" she giggled.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw," he said.

"It's such a cute little tail, though! It's all fuzzy and adorable!" Harry said.

"Ow, I'm SO not going to the prom with you," Snape said. Then, seeing their odd stares, he added, "What? I liked 'That 80s Show'."

"Really? It's, uh, on right now," Harry lied.

"What!" Snape sped away, abandoning the class.

"Great. Now we have an hour to kill and no pot," Ron griped. The rest of the class lamented about that for a while, and wondered if they might be able to sneak down to Hagrid's to get some more, when Terr Bott suddenly piped up.

"Let's go beat up Percy so he stops acting so...Percy-like," he suggested. The children stood at once and began jumping on tables, shouting and chanting, "Death to redheads! Death to redheads!" Ron hid under the professor's desk as the sudden mob of kids bashed down the door and rioted in the halls, attacking any redheads they encountered. Susan Bones (woo, a second mention!) fled into a broom closet with Ginny and hid while the class marched by with torches and pitchforks. Finally the professors came and valiantly fought back the rogue children with mace and tear gas, herding them back to their dorms and restoring order in the school once more.

Bad kids, bad kids, whatcha gunna do, whatcha gunna do when the come for you? BAD KIDS.


	6. Pine Fresh Lysol

Chapter 6

After recovering from the teargas and being allowed back out of their dorms, the children were tempted to start another riot when they discovered that it was time for potions. Draco was of course chipper about it, expecting the usual special treatment from Snape, but he wouldn't have been so happy if only he knew...

That Buckbeak might be the father of Hermione's baby!

Well, no, he mightn't. But someone might tell Draco that anyway, if only to make him quit being so smug.

Anyway, the children proceeded towards the dungeons by the usual route, pausing briefly to peer in the open door of Filch's office, moving on once they saw that nothing discreet or disgusting was going on. But it wasn't that room, but the potions room itself, that would cause them to gasp and a few to gag, for someone in Snape's absence had ruined the once-dreary setting. The tangy scent of lemons greeted them before they even opened the door, the desks had pink floral tablecloths, and all the seats had been exchanged for dainty dining chairs capped with lacy doilies. The Slytherins regarded the setting with utmost distrust and were the last to become seated. Lavender Brown and the Parvati twins were delighted by the puppy-print throw rugs, since it tickled their girlish fluffophilia.

"Hello!" squealed a voice, and everyone looked around for its source, for they could see no one speaking. Their curiosities were answered as a tiny blonde popped into view from behind the professor's desk, where her head had previously been hidden by an envased bouquet. "Don't you like what I've done with the place? It was so dreary before!" With each sentence her red-nailed hands made ridiculous motions, flapping and jerking to accent every syllable; obviously she thought it was cute but it was a bit frightening, those ten crimson daggers flying around her torso.

She skipped to the fore of her desk, dress and apron bouncing jauntily, and went on in her helium chirp, "Today I'd like to introduce you all to a very special potion I discovered in the Muggle world: Pine Fresh Lysol!" She produced a bottle and held it against her cheek with a merry grin.

Harry, still under the effects of the Say-What-You're-Thinking hex, spoke involuntarily. "What's wrong with that voice of yours? Have you been sucking helium or are you just highly constipated?" He groaned on the inside and wondered when the curse would wear off.

Her face fell and all the chipper glitter died in her eyes. "Oh, my," she said. "That's not very nice. Well, class, time for a good ol'-fashioned tar and feathering!"

This was met with blank stares and silence. "Well?" she said through grated teeth, but her voice did not drop in pitch. "I said, tar and feather him!"

"We...don't have tar," said Padma.

"Or feathers," said Parvati.

The woman sighed and waved the subject off dismissively. "Oh, well. By the way, I'm Professor Rekin, everyone!"

"What a ridiculous name," muttered Harry.

"I have acid," she said, and her voice had taken on a seething, cold tone that dripped with more fatality than Snape's ever had, although it was still far too high for any natural human.

But Harry couldn't stop himself. "So what? It's not like you're allowed to hurt students. And even if you could, I doubt you could ever do anything to me, anyway. I've survived facing off against Voldemort and his lackies every year I've been in this school! You honestly think a frilly, out-of-date Muggle-wannabe broad like you could scare me?"

"Well--"

"And what is with your hair? You are the lamest excuse for a sack of skin I've ever seen in my life, and believe me, I've seen alot of lame people." He looked around the room where he was met with many shocked and frightened faces. "And this colour scheme makes me want to PUKE!"

"But--"

"Stop stuttering! Why can't you just be assertive! You're trying to scare me, are you? You couldn't frighten a retarded schizophrenic!"

"I--"

"You're so sorry, your hair hurts. You have to wear a paper bag when you're on the phone. You have toothpicks, not legs. You--"

He hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, unconscious and bleeding from a dent in his face, Rekin standing over him with a frying pan with her wicked wide smile. "He was such a meanie!" she said, and took her seat behind her desk, hiding the frying pan in a drawer. The other students hardly dared to breathe.

"I'm so glad he fell asleep!" she squeaked. "Now, moving on to today's potions lesson..."

That night, Dumbledore called a teacher's conference. As soon as everyone was seated, he started announcements of why they had been called on such short notice.

"Ahem," he began. "It has come to my attention..." He stared hard at McGonagall over his gibbous-moon spectables (a step up from half!). She gulped nervously (and had since changed out of the bikini back into her normal dress).

He went on. "...that Minerva has been 'fraternizing' with multiple people!" Gasps echoed from those gathered and Argus and Severus erupted into a shouting match.

"Silence!" Albus commanded and they settled into grumbling. "Now, Minerva. We need to know: which one of us do you truly love?"

Minerva looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked at Minerva. Minerva looked at Snape. Snape looked at Minerva. Dumbledore looked at Snape. Minerva looked at Argus. Argus looked at Minerva. Snape looked at Argus. Argus looked at Snape. Snape looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked at Argus. Argus looked at Dumbledore. Professors Sprout, Trelawney and Flitwick started a rousing game of Go Fish, and luckily Minerva started to speak before it devolved into Strip Go Fish.

"I love...Argus Filch!" McGonagall declared and dove headlong at him, meeting at the lips loudly and with much slurping. The two toppled to the floor in a pile of moley wrinkles, entangled gray locks, and a vicious tongue wrestling match. Snape looked detested and Albus shrugged the pain away.

"Ah, well. Now that that's cleared up, it--" The two snogging teachers had rolled off into a corner and a series of noises best described like an overworked plunger forced the Headmaster to cough and raise his voice to be heard. "--It has also come to my attention that you, Sybil, have been sleeping with Harry Potter!" This elicited only half the gasps as the first announcement.

"I can explain everything," Trelawney said in a haughty, self-assured tone. "You see, I was drinking a cup of tea, and when I'd finished, I saw...a message! In...the leaves!" She began to slip into Melodramatic Mode, the sort that always made Ron snicker during classes. "I kne-e-ew that Ha-arry would need a good, mature wife...before...HE DI-I-IED!"

"Weren't you with Gilderoy, though?" said Professor Vector...and for all of you who are now rushing to your books to check that he exists and that the author isn't pulling random words for names out of her ass here, he is, in fact, the Arithmancy teacher.

"Gilderoy!" Trelawney huffed. "Why, that old fraud. I couldn't associate with someone who so clearly has no idea what he's doing." Snape rolled his eyes. Flitwick and Sprout shared a laughing-on-the-inside glance. Sybil did not notice as she continued, "I knew then...after my tea, that is, of course...that the only boy for me was...The Boy Who Lived!"

"Says The Woman Who Thinks He Won't," Snape muttered under his breath.

The sounds echoing up from the closet that Minerva and Argus has recently taken up residency in were nothing short of what one might hear if both boots got stuck in a mudhole and had to be yanked out by force, followed by popping corks out of wine bottles while hiccoughing on a trampoline.

"Well, I think that concludes today's conference," Dumbledore said, rising slowly. "I'll see you all next week, and, Severus..."

"Yes?"

"Good luck getting rid of that tail of yours."


	7. The Maury Show

Chapter 7

Through the miracles of science, magic, and child-created fanon (aka, the dark arts of literature), Minerva McGonagall gave birth to a baby girl within the week. However, the question on everyone's mind was:

How points so far have the houses lost? (Jarring chord!)

Actually, no. It was:

WHO! was the father of the baby? (Jarring chord!)

Was it...Albus! (Jarring chord!) Severus! (Jarring chord!) Argus! (Jarring chord!) Buckbeak! (Jarring chord!)

Quite suddenly a raging rhinocerous burst onto the scene and tore off with Colin Creevey's Port-a-Pipe-Organ (as well as stamped out the campfires), and there were no more jarring chords for the rest of the story. Or WERE THERE! ... No, there weren't.

Maury -- oh yes, you all know him -- graciously accepted the honours of hosting the paternity suit on his show, although unfortunately memory charms had to be cast on all the Muggles present afterwards and he ended up firing and subsequently suing half his crewmen, assuming that the missing episode was all their fault. But that hasn't happened yet, so we'll move on to when everyone is being introduced.

"On today's episode," went Maury, "A professor at a magical school has been sleeping not only with the groundskeeper, the Potions professor, but even the Headmaster, and now must find out who is the father of her newborn! Let's meet our guests now!" He gestured at each one as they entered from stage right. "Firstly, the lady of the hour, Professor Minerva McGonagall! Next, the cat-loving groundskeeper, Argus Filch! And here's the greasy git himself, Severus Snape! And finally, the Headmaster who obviously has no control over what goes on in his own school, Albus Dumbledore!" All of this was greeted by boos and hisses.

"How could you, you slimeball!" Argus snarled at Snape.

"I'm so sorry lubby-dunkins!" Minerva sobbed. "It was before the conference, I swear!"

"No, seriously, how could you, either of you? How could any of us? She's seventy years old!" Argus said. "Good god woman, where were you when menopause was supposed to get to you?"

"Oh, and I suppose -you're- just a ripe garden of virility, are you?" Snape sneered at the groundskeeper.

"I'm honestly quite surprised -I'm- here," said Dumbledore. "I'm one-hundred-fifty, a bit past the age of child-bearing, if you ask me."

"Apparently not too old for my nuzzy-wuzzims!" Argus barked.

Maury laughed nervously. "A-hah-ah...I'm not Springer, let's try to keep the shouting to a minimum..." The four guests sat back with arms folded, except for Minerva, whose arms were occupied by the infant.

"Alright then," Maury said, "It's time for a DNA test to put this matter to rest."

"Do I have to take one?" Minerva asked. He stared for a moment but she didn't withdraw the question.

"No. We're all fairly certain that you're the mother of your infant."

"But couldn't I be the father?"

"I don't know how things work in that magical world of yours, but here in normal-land, that is seriously the dumbest thing I've ever been asked on this show."

"Wait," Snape said, "Does a DNA test involve...needles?"

"Yes," Maury said.

Snape gulped. "Why?"

"Because we couldn't afford the Q-tips."

"Um..." Somehow that wasn't making sense, but before he could ask anything more, two nurses appeared behind him and dragged him away, kicking and screaming. A few minutes later he was returned, one vial short of a full body of blood and with a Mickey Mouse band-aid on the crook of his arm. He looked as unhappy and pitiful as a kicked puppy. The others were much more compliant to the testing, and strangely enough, none of them had band-aids or really any indication that they had been pricked at all. He would only later find out that Maury had been paid off to use a needle on Snape only, based on the recent insurgence of needle-fearing in the professor.

"Well? Do you know who the father is?" Minerva asked.

"Yes. And so will you...right after these messages from our sponsors!"

Quite a while later, the show returned, and with way too much pomp and ceremony three named envelopes were produced and handed to each potential father. They slowly, tersely, anxiously, worriedly, tensely, glumly, grimly, solemnly, ploddingly opened the envelopes, and then with just as many adjectives pulled the slips of paper out from within them, and then as the seconds ticked away another commercial break interrupted the moment, and in a few moments the show came back and the motions were resumed.

Albus looked at his slip of paper and sighed heavily in relief. "Not the father," he said, shaking his head.

"Me neither," Snape said and a bit of colour returned to his panic-paled face.

"I guess that just leaves me..." Argus bit his lip, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, exhaled deeply, repeat, repeat, and pulled out the slip of paper.

"What! I'm not the father!"

The audience gasped! Maury dropped his microphone! Severus stared! Albus chuckled! Minerva cried! The baby pooped and spit up!

"Oh, wait. I was looking at it upside-down." Argus flipped the paper. "Oh, I guess I am the father." The ceiling opened up and confetti and "Congratulations!" balloons rained down on them.

Snape buried his face in his hands. "But I'd always wanted to be a father..."

Dumbledore looked at him. "Really?"

"No. I just wanted the audience's sympathy."

"Up next," Maury said, facing the camera. "We have a pair of saimese twins who have no idea that they've been married to the same man for years!"

Appendix

Thanks to:

Amber, Katie, and Mina for their hilarious ideas and suggestions

Evie, for writing her fanfics that inspired me to make my own

Warner Brothers, for bringing Rowling's books to life

J.K. Rowling, for writing the books in the first place

Other stuff I don't own, so don't sue me (while not always directly mentioned, I do have alot of references that you might or might not all catch.):

The Simpsons

That 80s Show

Jabberwocky

The Rinkworks Fantasy Name Generator (mooshy names)

COPS

You Are My Sunshine

Lord of the Rings

Lisa Frank

Dillon C. Quattlebaum (real person)

Chocolate Orgasm

The Far Side

Batman & Robin (vs. the Dehydrated Pirates)

That commercial with the guy talking to his cat (I forget what company)

The Fly

Cosmopolitan Magazine

Beggin' Strips

Port-a-Potty

The Gods Must Be Crazy

South Park


End file.
